My Father Ordered Me to Strip Off My Uniform at His Cookout

with himself.

He looked older all of a sudden.

Not frail. Just used up around the edges.

Raymond sat back under the oak tree with his plate balanced on one knee. When I went over, he tapped the chair beside him.

“You didn’t have to tell them all that,” I said.

“You’re right.”

He chewed, swallowed. “I did have to stop him.”

I looked out across the yard.

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